RYAN MCKEAN

Leaving my twin sister is something I never thought I would have to do. Moving exactly 8,856 miles away from my sister is gut-wrenching, as she is no longer a couple of footsteps away from me. A shoulder I could lean on when I needed it, the person I could go to for anything. Starting next fall, I have to contact her through the phone and only see her a couple of times a year. To me, she feels like a part of me; the twin connection that no one can explain but only one that Jordan and I can understand. No one understands what it is like to have a twin. They just get you, understand all of you and sometimes even know you better than you know yourself. Having a twin sister has been nothing shy of a blessing. A special connection that was built before we even were born. Leaving the person I lived across the hall from will be one of the hardest adjustments I will ever have to make. Now, I have to adapt to leaving her, and my entire family, because I am becoming my own person — an adult. Leaving my sister is one among many of the obstacles I will have to endure after I graduate. My friends whom I got to see after every summer, is no longer a routine. “See you next year” is a familiar saying that I have been accustomed to since elementary school. No longer will I be able to say this, because this is it: this is the end of the road. Graduating from high school and starting college is something I never thought I would have to experience as fast as I have. The same routine I have been used to all my life. Saying goodbye to my friends before summer

Senior Multimedia Editor

Multimedia Editor

and seeing them again during the fall. Shopping for back-to-school supplies with my mom, getting a new backpack and shoes. 5:30 a.m., the same time I have woken up since the sixth grade. Getting out of bed, putting on the same clothes and waking up my sister to go to school. For four years, I followed the same routine, and now I have to adjust myself to a completely new lifestyle. When high school first started, I thought to myself, ‘Four years? That will feel like an eternity.’ That was a lie that I told myself, not realizing how fast high school would fly by. Going from having to worry about what time I needed to stop playing in the backyard to worrying about starting college is a change I expected to come later rather than sooner.

Listen to your peers when they say enjoy high school while it lasts, because it flies by faster than you would expect. One class that stopped time for me and made highschool feel timeless, was the Panther.

Along with the eye-opening experiences that high school has brought me, my time on The Panther has opened up new bridges I never thought I’d experience. The person that got me interested in even applying for The Panther is our current Print Editor-inChief: Samantha Elkins. A childhood friend who somehow managed to convince a shy kid like me who barely knew anything about writing, to join the school newspaper.

The Panther allowed me to expand my passion for multimedia. Going under the wing of Gianna Hutton expanded my love for photography. I not only was able to expand my love for photography but be able to expand my knowledge on writing; something I never thought I would ever do. I have never been a sucker for writing. It has not been my strong suit. With the right teacher and supportive peers, my writing took me somewhere unexpected. This year, I wrote about a time in my life I only told a handful of people about. My mental struggle through sophomore year, and sending that story to print was closure for me. The closure was being able to help myself and others in sharing the struggles of mental health as a teenager. The Panther Paper to me felt like more than a safe space. Something I hope can be continued after the class of 2023’s time comes to a close.

The relationships I made while in the Panther also expanded to different parts of Palmetto. A teacher that has felt more like a parental figure over the past two years elevated my high school experience to a whole new level. I ended up dropping AP United States History and enrolling in Honors U.S. History, which landed me with the teacher Mr. Ruiz. Little did I know how much of an impact he and his class would have on me by the time of graduation. At first, he seemed like a generally strict teacher. As my junior year went on, I got to know Mr. Ruiz on a personal level. He claimed I was a quiet student who did not speak much during the beginning of the year, and near the end, I was a completely different person. Walking into that classroom every day, I was excited to learn and connect with my teacher even more. As a senior this year, I got to become one of his teacher aides, which less than five people can become. These past two years have shown me that teachers are also people, and that they truly do care about the success of students after high school.

As I wrap up my time as a high schooler, I realize that while this may be the end of a chapter I have known my whole life, it is an opening to a whole new book. I am beyond grateful for everyone that has helped me get here today. All the teachers who believed in me, my friends, family and especially my parents.

Life Editor Life Editor

Hello to whoever is reading this! Maybe it is me, or maybe it is you, but I promise every time I encounter whoever you are, you will be a bit more evolved from the last time we interacted. The biggest lie sold to us in high school is that we must save the world from a young age, or else we cannot save our own. If we are not automatically self-sacrificing and willing to give our entire soul to the creation of something bigger than us, we cannot succeed. I would like to adapt that idea to one that prompts us to try to understand the world within us, to wholeheartedly make an effort to create a better world around us. And as I have realized throughout high school, to accept your state and who you may be at a certain moment is allowing for the energy of the universe to flow without extra hindrance from our egos and fears which may propel us to create the environment in which we wish to be our ideal selves.

The essence of the Michael with which I have grown and experienced everything resides in the essence of the unknown. The unknown, though, may be an optimistic place, a place of wonder as well as a place of creation. Residing in the unknown, as I felt for the majority of my high school experience, is a tumultuous experience in itself; although, of course, this is all a part of the overarching story of adolescence and beyond.

The image of the night sky staring back at me as I trudged to conjure a cohesive thought after long nights of circular thoughts regarding the present and future was a common occurrence in the four years of my high school experience. Nature and the beauty it brings is one of the most important facets of the Earth, of our fortunate coincidence of an existence, an existence marked by uncertainty and also by passion and love.

In this scene of staring at the night sky, I remember the pain that went into the process of going through high school — not to discount all of the good that has occurred as well. As a naturally unsure, shy, reluctant and overall wander-driven kid, I found myself numb to the trials of everyday life: I found myself lost and in the natural cycle of the adolescent experience, which comprises the aforementioned uncertainty and doubt.

March 6, 2020, was a day that shaped my high school experience in one of the best ways possible; it set a precedent for who my friend group would become. On this fateful night, Palmetto was hosting a movie night in the field as a fundraiser for the school where they were slated to play the Fast and Furious buddy action spin-off, “Dobbs and Shaw,” and I had only known of a few people going to the event. Through the night, though, and I did not know this night would transpire in this way, I spent most of my time with a group of people comprised notably of Gabe Salvat, Josh Bechtinger and Hunter Jordan. All three of these people continue to hold a special place in my heart, all representing parts of the high school experience which would not have been anywhere near the same without them.

Through high school, I noticed something about my interests and about the people I found myself surrounded by. This realization that these activities and the people I did them with allowed me to explicate the human spirit that boiled within me, the infinite soul that found no finite boundaries. They allowed that soul to soar. They allowed me to feel like myself, or at least the versions of me I was able to show them.

Cross Country and the sport of running, I believe, provided some of the most beautiful moments of all of high school. I even met people who provided the most encouragement to me when entering high school and implemented the battery in my back to succeed through my beloved sport and beyond. The memory of struggling together in practice, making jokes about just about everything, our group Spotify playlist and the muddy runs of the late afternoons of fall 2019 to fall 2022, will always reside in a special place in my heart. Cross country taught us to make light of the rough and difficult practices, because we endured, and as a team, we ran through the roads of Pinecrest, in an effort to only beat yesterday’s version of ourselves.

Philosophy club is the second activity in which homage is needed. Philosophy club, to me, serves as the embodiment of the thoughts and feelings I feel many students have, and therefore, the place in which we felt comfortable expressing them. A large part of my high school experience was an effort to help the people around me have a safe place to express themselves, whether it was through one-to-one conversation or in the open forum provided in room 1206.

In my junior year, I took AP English Language and Composition with Ms. Pulido during her fifth period. In that class, I did not pass a single Multiple Choice Question practice exam — I actually think I averaged around the mid-40 percent for those tests — yet, my writing was always pretty well received. But the message that Ms. Pulido always taught us was the lesson of “process, process, process,” and while that is one of those phrases that many people are told, for me, it only settled in during that class, and will forever stick with me. This commitment to process I believe is one of the precursors to a more patient future for myself, a future of knowing that although my favored outcome has not manifested, it is able to come to life through dedication, balance and optimism.

And lastly, but never least, the activity which allowed staffers to have the liberty of the experience of being on an organized publication and being a support system during my most rough and tumultuous moments, The Panther, is one of the— if not the most important — activity I found myself a part of in high school. I found a sort of path with a better understanding of the world around us as well as within us, I now better understand our generation and the opinions, people and events that shape us. The left side of room 1124, or as we know it, “the newspaper room” and also the room shared with The Palm Echo, signified many memories. The physical and metaphorical angle in which I sat, provided my view to witness the staff grow into a harmonious unit, and I can confidently say as we take our last steps out of room 1124: “man, the paper is in good hands.”

Gratefully, I loved high school. I loved the moments with my friends in which random and seemingly coincidental moments occurred, I loved the rush of finding out we had a sub for certain classes, I loved seeing people in the hallways and receiving and providing a simple “hello” and importantly these moments shaped our perspectives and evolved us into better people. It hurts to say goodbye, but every goodbye is near a new, warm welcome. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for reading all of these years, the class of 2023 appreciates you, as do I!